


Riddles of the Mind

by sourwolfstiles (doctoryouwho)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alive Allison Argent & Vernon Boyd & Erica Reyes, Alpha Derek Hale, Erica Reyes & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, Jealous Derek, Jennifer Blake is Not a Darach, Lydia Martin & Stiles Stilinski Friendship, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Minor Jennifer Blake/Derek Hale, Nogitsune, Not Canon Compliant, Pack Feels, Pack Mother Stiles Stilinski, Pining Stiles, Post Kanima, Spark Stiles Stilinski, True Mates, Werewolf Jackson Whittemore, Wolf Derek, but not for too long, everyone is legal, slightly tho
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-09-23
Updated: 2017-03-19
Packaged: 2018-02-18 11:26:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 4,605
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2346809
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doctoryouwho/pseuds/sourwolfstiles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Taking place the summer before college.<br/>Stiles was just hoping for a nap, but life had another idea, one including Derek.<br/>Derek who just couldn't stop going off to Stiles' former English teacher, Ms. Blake, ugh.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Holy Shit... Derek??

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever fan-fiction, so any stupidness is all my fault  
> This is also unbeta'd so mistakes are also my own  
> The rating may change depending on what comes to me from you, or just me.  
> *Jennifer IS NOT THE DARACH* BUT SHE IS EVIL.  
> I am really not sure how this will go, so comments and suggestions are more than welcome. In fact, they are in high demand!

Stiles was having a pretty shitty day.  

First, he had fallen flat on his face after being scared out of his mind by his former bro/ friend Scott, and then he had ripped his favorite red hoodie trying to escape the newest supernatural baddie the pack had gone after. So all he really wanted to do was go home and sleep for another hundred years.

But, of course, Stiles never gets his way.

He got home, parked his beloved Jeep and trudged up the stairs, hoping that before his nap he might get some “Stiles time”, and walked into his room.

And nearly had a heart attack.

“Whoa!, what the- Derek?!”

  
Sourwolf hadn't been up to his usual stalker-wolfness lately, and Stiles had been taken by surprise. Derek and his usual scowly face were sitting in Stiles' computer chair, and he looked like he wanted to be anywhere else rather than there. Stiles stopped his manic flailing and tried not to trip over himself as he carefully approached the sitting man. Thoughts were racing a mile a minute in the teen's mind, all wondering what _Derek Hale_ would want on a Saturday afternoon, when Stiles was looking forward to a long and well- deserved nap. And totally not a jerk-off session afterwards, no way, Stiles was a man of  _class._

"Uh, hey Derek, what's going on? No townspeople to terrorize? Or did you finally come to your senses about how awesome you secretly think I am?" brain to mouth filter was obviously kaput, considering the stream of word-vomit that Stiles blurted. Derek gave him what Stiles had come to identify as "The Hale Glare" and started to stand. Stiles took a reflexive step back and tried not to check the the man's toned body out.

Little Stiles be damned, he wasn't going to get hard. At least, not when the Alpha could smell him.  Stiles realized he'd been staring for longer than any excuse could save him from and quickly looked back at the man's eyes. They were not set in the glare anymore, but a bit softer, almost _friendly_?

Stiles took a second to wonder if he had fallen asleep standing up. Derek never had any emotion other than annoyance or anger on his gorgeous face. Something must be going on. And he was right.

Derek opened his mouth, and what he said blew Stiles away.

"Stiles, I need a favor."


	2. Whose Dumbass Idea Was This?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey!! , I ... have no idea where this thing will go. I sort of stick to canon plot, and then I will just mash the shit out of it. Bear with me, and please give kudos and comment !!

"What sort of favor are we talking here, Derek? A loan, though I doubt it since you own that blessed bad-ass car, and my dad doesn't necessarily make much? Or is it a sexual favor, which I also doubt you need, due to your infuriating good looks and rugged appearance?"

Derek rolled his eyes and his eyebrows did a little dance.

"Stiles, just shut up, and listen to me."

"Okay, shuting up now." He mimed zipping his lips and stared at Derek as close as a Stiles of his nature could get to attentive.

"I need you to take over the pack meeting today, and hold it here instead."

"What? Why?" Stiles was never even  _invited_ to pack meetings, now all of a sudden he was gonna _host_ one?

Derek seemed to stiffen up and his whole attitude immediately turned inwards. Stiles was very fucking confused.

"Derek..?"

The Alpha's eyes met his and Stiles heart lurched when he saw the emotion expressed in the wolf's hazel eyes. It was something akin to affection.

Blushing and berating himself for even thinking that look was meant for him, Stiles was shocked for a moment.

Derek had never shown that face in the entirety of the strange 'friendship/ saving each others lives'  thing they had going on.

Stiles felt a pang of jealousy and his chest ached, wondering who had charmed Derek into showing that vulnerably open expression.

He quickly squashed the feeling down when he remembered werewolves could smell emotions and hear heartbeats, and if Derek noticed anything, he didn't bring it up.

"I'm meeting with someone today." Derek finally spoke.

Stiles felt his own eyebrows shoot upwards with the idea that ol' Sourwolf could even find and keep a friend, much less a  _lover._

His inquisitive nature was awakened from there, nobody could stop him now.

"Who is it? Anybody we know? Is it safe to be out there? What about the Alpha pack? Is it a woman? When did you even find the _time_ to get a date? How long is this going to go on? Are you using protection? Can werewolves even _contract_ STD's? What about STI's?  Wait, is it even a woman, or is it a dude? Are you _gay_?! Or are you Bi? I _knew_ I should have kept asking Danny if I was attractive to gay guys!! "

"STILES, STOP TALKING."

Stiles shut his mouth again, and tried to let the man speak.

Derek sighed and looked defeated, and while Stiles got anxious to know who Derek was involved with, he didn't want to face the rejection of knowing that whomever Derek was seeing, Stiles would never match up. But he put on what he hoped was a brave face and nodded for Derek to continue speaking. Derek sucked in a breath, and confessed.

"It's Jennifer Blake."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Does this really count as a cliffhanger?  
> Well, anyway, comment and kudos. BTW, any suggestions for later chapters or plot?  
> and please keep in mind that the rating is subject to change if i get a good suggestion!!


	3. Why not Stiles, for Fuck's sake?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Derek tells Stiles about his relationship with Jennifer, and Stiles feels like shit.

“Jennifer Blake as in _my former English teacher, Jennifer Blake_? What the ever- loving fuck, Derek?"

Derek’s ears turned an adorable shade of red that at any other moment Stiles would have cooed at, but he was too upset to care right now.

"Yes, Stiles,  _that_ Jennifer. " Derek huffed. _  
_

"Are you two  _dating_ or what, because I get a feeling about her, she's not all right in my book."

"Yes, Stiles, you could say that we're dating." 

Derek blinked, processing what Stiles had said. "Wait, what? Why is she 'not all right'? You know what, nevermind, it's not important, you're just a kid who doesn't understand things like this."

Stiles reeled back as if Derek had hit him, which in a way, he kind of had.

Stiles was used to people talking crap to him, but for Derek to say something so awful was a whole other feeling.

A really shitty one.

Stiles really wanted to cry.

"Anyway, can you or can you not hold the pack meeting here? I have to go soon." 

 _Jennifer must really be getting to him._  Stiles thought dejectedly. It seemed that Sourwolf had become Sappywolf, and Stiles only wished it were because of him, and not the suspicious, and overly- saccharine teacher.

Stiles had a  _really_   weird feeling about her.

And contrary to Scott's adamant arguments, Stiles  _had_ been right about that creeper Matt. Stiles remembered Derek was still there, and with a look that got more broody by the second.

"Y-yeah, sure, Derek. I can hold the meet here, you go have... fun."  _While I just exist here, wondering what I'm doing wrong._ _And why you only notice me when I annoy you to the point of considering homicide._

"Thank you, Stiles. I really, really appreciate it."

Stiles's heart throbbed painfully at that, and he turned away form the man, hoping Derek would get the hint.

He did, or at least, he noticed he was gonna be late.


	4. Man, feelings suck, and not in the good way.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pack meeting ensues and a little Erica & Stiles friendship can be felt! A little foreshadowing as well for the conflict...

Werewolves, be it a rule of biology or cruel irony, are hungry motherfuckers.

Stiles wasn't sure how much money he just blew on pizza and chips, but he could tell college wasn't happening without a scholarship. After the pizza was surrendered to the ravenous wolves and Stiles managed to scrounge up a handful if chips before the wolves snatched them up, Stiles felt a significant lack of belonging in the pack. Maybe it was because Derek wasn't there. Or maybe because all his friends were in a relationship.  Like, Erica and Boyd were constantly hooking up. Allison and Scott were disgusting together with all the flowers and sparkles. Isaac had Danny, who was in on the furry details. Hell, Lydia and douche-face Whittemore were sickening with the intimacy of their whispers.

And Stiles, well, he had no one.

Or at least, the someone he _wanted_ was ignorant to his existence and was banging his English teacher. God, his  _teacher._ English teachers were supposed to be old, right? Ms. Blake was just plain creepy with her youthful looks and dainty smile and her perfect hair and flawless style, which wasn't wasn't really a forte of Stiles'.

Irony, what a bitch.

Regardless, Stiles' inner conflict was picked up on by a certain blonde with an affinity for corsets and getting into other peoples' businesses. 

Stiles felt the armchair he was inhabiting sink under the weight of Erica trying to cram herself next to him. He sighed and turned to her, knowing a talk was coming and bracing for the inevitable. "What's up, Batman? Can't handle having so much sexy in your house?" Stiles let out a mirthless laugh, his mind only thinking about one particular sexy bearded man's absence he wasn't handling. Erica pouted at the lame reaction to her joke. She got close to Stiles' ear and whispered to him. "Is this about Derek? Because you know, if he hasn't made a move on your legal ass yet, he's probably being a broody idiot. You know how he is with the man-pain."

Stiles  _did_ know, which was why it hurt. Derek had a way of holding himself back from everything, because of some stupid martyr-complex he carried like a chip on his shoulder. If Stiles wasn't so sympathetic he'd be pissed. He heard a far away noise that sounded like his name, and zoned back in to hear Erica talking, and the others looking at him, frowns marring their features. Stiles straightened under all the attention nervously.

"Uh, what'd you say? Sorry, spaced out again." He muttered sheepishly. "Geez, Stilinski, that's like the fifth time today you've stopped listening. Take your medicine more often." Jackson snarked.

For the life of him, Stiles has never and will never understand what drug-compelled Derek to bite Jackson's obnoxious self. Fucking asshole had no restraint with his damn jibs, and while sometimes Stiles enjoyed the testosterone- fueled banter, Jackson was still a dick. "As much as I valued your opinion, Jackson, and I _really_ do, I can't find the strength in me to really give a shit." Stiles replied. Jackson looked mock offended at Stiles' snarky retort, but continued his whispered conversation with Lydia again. Erica looked at Stiles again, observing with quick eyes and assessing his mood. She pursed her red lips and sighed. "He's right, you know. Not about the medicine, but you really have been spacing out more than usual. It's not about Derek, is it?" Damn Erica and her Stilinski-whispering ways. It was true; there was something else bothering Stiles. Sleep wasn't coming to him as easily, and whatever sleep he could get, he woke screaming from the nightmares.   

"I'm fine, Erica, really." Never let it be said that Stiles was always honest.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Suggestions are SO welcome in the making of this, I haven't for the life of me any semblance of a plot, so what the readers want may be taken into consideration.  
> Comments make me write faster, so show the love !!!


	5. Symptoms may include...

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pack meeting's over, and Stiles begins to feel the effects of a mysterious condition.  
> Emotional nightmares, beware emotional shit-storm.  
> Based off of Season 3B, episode 13: "Anchors".

Alone once again, Stiles began to clean up the mess left by the horde of werewolves. He began to think, receding into himself, about Derek, what else?

He remembers when he first saw the werewolf, when he first felt the intimidating aura of untapped power residing in Derek. Even as an omega, Derek possessed the leadership capabilities of an Alpha. He hadn't know back then, but his Spark had reacted to Derek's wolf, which Deaton later explained was how Emissaries were chosen. Stiles hadn't stopped fangirling for weeks after learning of his bond to Derek, seeing as that was as close as they were ever going to get to a relationship.

But knowing what he did now, that his fucking English teacher was in the equation, Stiles resented the bond, feeling that it mocked him.

A loud crash startled Stiles out of his thoughts, and he looked around to see that he'd dropped a plate. As he leaned down to pick up the pieces, he noticed an uncontrollable shaking in his hands. Stiles clutched his hands together and focused on calming down, and when the shaking left, he decided sweeping was a safer option. 

Teeth brushed and sleep clothes donned, Stiles crawled into bed, ready for another fitful night of sleep. He's asleep before he knows it, for once.

* * *

 

The dream was bright, in a house, more specifically, a bed. He's on his side, shirtless. Stiles hasn't had a dream like this before, and he feels calm and relaxed for once. There's a shift in weight on the bed, and Stiles stiffens with the new knowledge that he isn't alone. Small, soft, stubbly kisses begin to trail up his spine, and he shivers under the attention he's given. The kisses reach the sensitive spot under his ear, and he turns to face his bedmate. Derek, in all his godly glory, smiles gently at Stiles, and takes his breath away. Blushing, Stiles keeps his eyes on Derek's, so he doesn't look at what is so obviously his stark naked body. This is great. It's _awesome_ , totally what Stiles needed. Shyly, he smiles back at Derek, who chuckles and kisses his nose.

They cuddle, with Derek being the big spoon, and Stiles obviously the little spoon. Stiles is hyper-aware of every inhale Derek takes, making sure to memorize every little thing about this feeling. 

"Stiles, I can hear you over-analyzing this, stop." Stiles freezes, caught in the act.

"Sorry..."

Derek snuffles at Stiles' neck, clearly scent-marking him, giving Stiles a ridiculously elated feeling. Stiles, being Stiles, begins to talk.

"Derek?"

"Hmm?" Came the sleepy reply. 

"How is this real? I mean, why is this happening? You don't _like_ me like this, you like Ms. Blake." Admitting this aloud dulled the happy feeling, but his curiosity needed to be sated.

"You _know_ this isn't real, Stiles, that's why it's so perfect. That's why you need to stay with me in bed, so it can last." That response piqued Stiles interest, and he sensed a change in the atmosphere. Something was wrong, he could feel it. Something  was out of place, and the perfect moment in bed was a distraction. 

Stiles shrugged out of Derek's embrace, which caused a whine to come from the other man, but Stiles ignored it, heading to the only door in the bright room. He could feel that whatever was wrong was on the other side of that door. He paused when a frighteningly cold hand closed on his arm, and turned to see that it belonged to Derek. 

"Stay, please Stiles, stay with me. Come back to bed." Derek whispered. Stiles was about to, but the cold hand on him was what stopped him.

Werewolves had a faster metabolism than humans, which caused them to run at higher temperatures. But Derek's hand was a frigid weight on him. Panic and urgency overrode any feelings of wanting to return to bed, and Stiles removed Derek's hand from him, stepping closer to the door. 

The sunny room dimmed, and Derek spoke again, with a tense tone. 

"Stiles, come back to bed."

"Yeah, I'll be right there, I'm just gonna close the door."

"Stiles,  _come back to the bed._ "

"No, no I should close it."

"Don't worry about it."

Stiles looks back at Derek's face. "What if someone comes in?"

Derek rolled his eyes. "Like who? Just go back to sleep, Stiles."

Then Stiles hears it. Whispering. Coming from the door.

"But what if they get in?"

"But what if _who_ gets in? Stiles, just leave it. Come back to bed. Please. Stiles.  _Stiles!  Come back to bed._ "

Stiles is at the door now, but now he wants to go in. He needs to see what the whispering is about. Derek is becoming more and more panicked.

" _Stiles! Stiles, don't go! Please, don't leave! Don't! Don't go in there, please, no._ " 

Stiles' heart feels like it's about to leap out of his chest, his ears are pounding with the blood rushing through them. He puts one foot through the door. Derek freaks.

" _Stiles, don't!_ "

Derek's voice fades away and cuts off, like a tunnel, and Stiles is left alone. He's in the woods, or, more importantly, by a big ass stump of a tree. He doesn't know why, but the stump freaks him the fuck out, and his breathing becomes labored. He recognizes the stump, it's the fucking Nemeton.

He can't get enough air in his lungs, he's gasping for it, but somehow air has left the woods in a vacuum. His head is pounding, the stump clouding over with blackspots in his vision. 

 _This is a dream. It isn't really happening. I'm safe. I'm safe. I'm safe, because this is a dream. Get it out of your head, Stiles. You're dreaming, okay? It's all a dream. Wake up. Wake up, wake_ up! WAKE UP!!!

 

He wakes up screaming. Screaming himself hoarse with absolute terror. Then there are new arms around him, but they don't belong to Derek, or his dad.

"Stiles, bro, you're fine, you're safe, it's me!" 

Scott. 

 

His body goes lax, and he feels the shivers lessen, along with the weight on his chest. He looks up at Scott, and sees that he is taking his pain. 

Taking a deep breath, he calms, and wonders why his dad's not here. Then it hits him, his dad was working the late shift, he'd told Stiles earlier about five times, knowing he'd forget.

"Dude, what _happened_ to you? I could hear your heart beating from my house, was it a nightmare again?" Scott always knew when something was wrong with Stiles. Sometimes, like this one, Stiles really resented that fact.

"I'm fine, it was just a dream."

"And you couldn't wake up?"

"No; it was beyond terrifying. You ever heard of sleep paralysis?"

Scott tilted his head, adding to the puppy-like nature of his. "Um, no, do I want to?"

Stiles sighed, Scott could be a real goof sometimes.

"Have you ever had a dream where you feel like you're about wake up, but you can't move or even talk?" That was about as simple as he could put it.

"Yeah, yeah, I've had that."

"It's called Muscle Antonia, happens during the REM cycle. It paralyses your body, so if you dream that you're running, you don't actually run off your bed." Scott nodded, understanding.

"But the thing is, sometimes the mind wakes up before your body does, and you're awake that your body is paralyzed for like a split second. It turns the dream into a nightmare, and you can feel like you're being strangled, chased, or, in my case, like you're at the center of a grove of creepy magical trees where human sacrifices took place." Stiles shuddered, thinking about the time the Darach was alive, and the sacrifice that he, Scott, and Allison gave to save their parents from Matt Daehler, the psychotic Darach. 

Scott seemed to grasp when Stiles was getting at, and the true horror of the dreams was evident. 

"Have they been this bad before? I've never heard your heart that loudly before." Stiles shook his head. This dream had been one of the worst, and not just because of the Nemeton, but being baited with Derek was a new hit. Like it wasn't enough that while awake he didn't have Derek, but while asleep as well.

Dreams really liked to screw him over.

Scott left a while after, due to Stiles insisting he was fine, that the worst was over, and Stiles lay on his back, thinking about how nicely the dream had started. The domesticity of it made Stiles ache with a hollow feeling in his chest. Tears burned his eyes as they welled up, along with a horrible feeling of low self-worth. Derek was happier without Stiles, but Stiles was too stubborn to let him go.

He sniffled, and turned onto his front, letting the tears lull him to sleep.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, 2 chapters in one day! I'm a fucking trooper.  
> Poor Stiles, dreams just fucking hate him.The dream was slightly based on the dialogue of episode 13, season 3B. ("Anchors")  
> I just replaced Lydia with Derek.  
> GAH!!! Relationships are hard to plan in the fictional world.  
> Please like and comment, definitely subscribe if you like what you see!


	6. The Art of Denial

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Now for a look at Derek's POV, and Scott expressing concern for Stile's wellbeing, and prompting Derek's assistance in monitoring his friend.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Guys, plse help my Destiel fic get more views, I'm just a sad sack without comments.

Derek was happy, for once.

Everything seemed to be going up him, and it was great. A successful date with an attractive woman, check; pack meeting taken care of, check; some after-date sex, on its way. He held Jennifer's hand as they walked out of the restaurant and to his Camaro. It'd been a while since Kate had been killed, and he was slowly coming back into the dating game, and so far it seemed to be pretty successful. Until Scott happened.

His phone beeped, and he seriously hoped to god that whatever his pack had gotten into resulted in a murder, or else he was seriously reconsidering having bitten the teenagers at all. He saw the text Scott had sent: 

 **Scott McCall** : _Stiles seems off._

 **Me** : _Why is this important right now; I'm busy, Scott._

 **Scott McCall** :  _Derek, im serious, he isn't ok. Come back._

Derek didn't bother replying; no _fucking way_ was he going to miss out on his personal time to have to put up with Scott and Stiles' antics. Stiles probably was going through withdrawal of his meds, no big fucking deal. Derek put away his phone and held the door to his car open for Jennifer. The beautiful teacher gracefully slipped inside and Derek slid into the car and they were gone.

* * *

 

When they arrived at the loft, Derek took a  moment to study Jennifer. She was gorgeous; a pale, narrow face, pretty brown eyes, long dark hair, and thin limbs. He was very attracted to her, but something about his wolf was nagging him. His inner wolf kept growling, as if agitated that she wasn't what her was looking for; as if she were a substitute for the bigger picture his wolf craved. 

Derek ignored his wolf, what did it matter if his wolf was rejecting her? He was on a date, he wasn't _marrying_ the woman. At this his wolf puffed itself up, hackles rising and the growls increasing in volume; the idea of mating with Jennifer repulsing it. Derek pushed back the feelings and tilted Jennifer's head up for a kiss, and she jumped, wrapping her legs around him while he maneuvered them to the bed. Something about Jennifer was so alluring; it enchanted him, despite his wolf's protests. He felt a sort of giddy feeling, like a drug, come over him, but he passed it off as having too much wine and not enough sex in a while.

* * *

 

Jennifer had been long asleep in his bed, but Derek couldn't seem to fall asleep just yet; an urge to  _find_ something he was missing seemed to prickle at him. He didn't regret having sex with Jennifer, but there was also a strange feeling he encountered when they were done, like a puzzle piece in the wrong spot. Derek thought about it the whole night.

The next morning Jennifer was gone, and a note saying that she enjoyed the date, and what happened after was fun, but she had work. She also said that they'd talk about when to set another date. Derek felt both lonely at the empty loft, and relived at Jennifer's absence. It was like an itch that he finally scratched. He set about his regular routine, making breakfast, fixing the bed, working out. While he did so, his mind wandered back to the day before. More specifically, his and Scott's conversation about Stiles. His wolf yipped at the thought of the other boy, whining in question about his health. Derek was shocked at himself, never had he had such a reaction thinking about another member of the pack. But his wolf was insistent, scratching at the surface with the urge to check on its mate.

Wait,  _what the fuck was that?_   Stiles??  _Mate_?! Derek dropped the weight he was holding onto his foot, and proceeded to stifle a scream as the bones broke in his foot. Taking deep breaths as the bones fixed themselves, Derek told himself that there was  _no way_ that Stiles could be his mate. Derek didn't  _have_ a mate; ever since he killed Paige, the mark on his soul had erased any trace of hope of finding a mate. So his wolf was clearly wrong, and Derek would be alone, like he deserved to be.

After all, _murderers don't deserve to be happy._  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I realize Hayley Webb's (Jennifer) eyes are in fact NOT brown, but blueish green, but for the story's sake, and Sterek, please excuse the lies.  
> Comments and PLEASE READ MY DESTIEL FIC!! http://archiveofourown.org/works/4473380  
> PLEASE LOVE ME


	7. Angst, Shopping, and More Angst?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The next day, Stiles feels even more like shit, Derek has an inner struggle, and Lydia decides that everything is solved by a shopping trip and an illegal night out clubbing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit, I'm back! It's been so long, like 2 years, did you all miss me? Probably not, but I'll pretend you did. Enjoy this Chapter and a big "Thank you" to dehale for the comment that inspired this turn of events!

Stiles woke up the next morning feeling possibly even more shitty than when he went to sleep. The two hours he managed to barely sleep through were the only thing that got him out of bed and down the stairs to the kitchen. After making a cup of dangerously caffeinated coffee, his brain function began to return. He thought back to his nightmare, and how pathetic it was that the only way he could have Derek was through a paralyzing night terror. Fuckin' perfect.

He went back upstairs and threw himself on his bed, covering his eyes with one arm.  _Maybe if I just lay here, I'll spontaneously die and no one will notice. Until they need someone to research, or host a pack meeting. Assholes._ He continued his death fantasies until he heard his phone buzz.  _Derek?_  

He checked the text; it was Lydia, not Derek.

**Queen Lydia** _: Get dressed. We're going out to shop, and then we're going to a club to remove the stick from your ass._

**Me** _: Wtf, no Lyds, i like the stick up my ass. it's the only one who_ wants _my ass._

**Queen Lydia** _: Get the hell out of bed, or I'll show Derek the pictures from the graduation party._

Fuck, Lydia could be such an evil genius.

**Me** _: fine._

**Queen Lydia** _: <3_

Throwing on a graphic tee and his signature plaid, Stiles left his house to find Lydia already parked in the driveway.

"Get in loser, we're going shopping." she smirked. "Did you just  _Mean Girls_  me?" he gasped. She swished her hair over her shoulder, not bothering to answer. They peeled out of the driveway, and headed to the mall.

 

* * *

  

Lydia was being very difficult. First, she refused to let Stiles buy any graphic tees, despite the new Spiderman design the store had added. Second, she forced Stiles to enter some overpriced, "my dad's a lawyer"- store, where the models looked like they came out of either porn or a factory. 

Despite the rough start, Lydia was once again proving herself as the most fashion-forward of their pack, picking a tight black dress shirt and dark red skinny jeans that, in her own words, made Stiles's ass "look edible". They left the mall, and headed back to his place to get dressed, Lydia having bought her own outfit in advance. 

As Stiles got dressed, Lydia was talking about her plans for the club. "... and maybe then you can get over Derek." He paid attention at that, nearly snapping his neck turning to face the redhead. "What about Derek?" he asked, feeling his face flush at the thought of the other man. "I  _said_ , that maybe while we're at the club, you can find a hot guy to help you get over Derek." Stiles was torn. While logically, moving on was a good idea, something inside him rejected the idea of sleeping with someone else. It almost felt like cheating on Derek, which was ridiculous, as Derek wouldn't even fart in his direction. And, he reasoned, why lose his virginity to a one-night stand? He wanted his first time to be  _special_ , preferably with a certain wolfy curmudgeon, but that wasn't happening anytime soon.

"We'll see. Maybe there won't even be that many hot guys there tonight. That could happen, right?" he half-joked. Lydia was not impressed. 

"Just put your pants on and let me do your hair. We need to get you laid."

No getting out of this, then. Awesome.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Sorryyyy for being gone so long! Also sorry for not yet writing the club scene, im a notorious procrastinator.  
> maybe if enough of you ask, i'll write a oneshot of the eventful Graduation Party *wink wink*  
> PLEASE LEAVE A COMMENT, THEY'RE MY ONLY FRIENDS.  
> CHECK OUT MY DESTIEL WORK TOO, IF YOU'RE INTO THAT.  
> please give kudos, cuz idk if this fic's even that good bro

**Author's Note:**

> RESTATING, JENNIFER IS NOT THE DARACH, BUT SHE IS A MAGICAL EVIL.  
> I updated the tags, so be aware of changes.


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